


#1 Rommate

by grovestep



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, Competition, M/M, Roommates, SEP era, Sad Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22452292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grovestep/pseuds/grovestep
Summary: Jack Morrison was used to being #1. When he joins the SEP, he doesn't know how to handle being the low man in the pecking order.--Written for Hero: A Soldier:76 Fanzine
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	#1 Rommate

**Author's Note:**

> Been waiting a long time to post this fic. I hope you all love it as much as I do.

Jack Morrison always came out on top.

No matter what he did, he had a natural knack for excelling. He was Bloomington’s reigning cornhole champion. He was always first to the top of the rock wall at boot camp. In the military, he held the record for omnic headshots (though it was hard to count in the heat of battle). Jack took pride in everything he did. It came as no surprise when the military approached him with a once in a lifetime offer—one he found hard to pass up. 

After going through the necessary paperwork and pencil pushing, Jack was cleared to access the SEP facilities. He went straight to his assigned room. The plaques beside the door shone even in the low light. The numbers 24 and 76 were embossed on the metal. Jack knocked once out of courtesy then opened the door. He placed his belongings on his bed and stood back to inspect the living space. His roommate wasn’t there, but their side of the room had a lived-in feel. The sheets on the bed were rustled and sloppily tucked back into place. The desk was in organized chaos; sticky notes dotted the workspace with various notes scrawled on them. Jack picked one up and read it aloud. 

“One hundred push-ups before bed.” Jack grunted and picked up another. “Roomie arrives tomorrow at five.” He placed the notes back where they came from. So his roommate knew he was coming and decided to vacate the room before he got there. He hadn’t expected a welcome party, but he would’ve appreciated someone to show him around. 

Jack left his bag on the bed for later. He walked down the hallway, hands in his pockets. He whistled a tune as he walked. He was just about to exit the barracks when a man stepped out of the communal bathrooms. Jack started to say hello, but was interrupted by the man’s gruff voice. 

“Hey, Boy Scout, knock it off with the Camp Town Races, would ya? I could hear you coming from a mile away,” the man said. 

Jack’s stammered, his eyes going wide. They flicked down to the name and number on the man’s sleeve. Reyes. 24. Jack swallowed. He set his jaw and straightened his back. 

“My name isn’t Boy Scout,” he said. “And if we’re going to be living together, I suggest you get used to it.”

Reyes seemed to be taken aback, but only for a second. His eyes narrowed and he gave Jack a wolfish grin. It was downright predatory. “So _you’re_ the golden boy, huh?” Reyes raked his gaze up and down Jack’s body. “I expected someone...beefier.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You know who I am?” Jack asked, a furious blush rising on his cheeks. 

“Everyone’s heard of you, Boy Scout. Jack Morrison, top of his class. Jack Morrison, prodigy with a gun. Morrison this, Morrison that. I’ll tell you what,” Reyes said, stepping closer to Jack so their chests were almost touching. “I’m not impressed. Here, you’re just the low man on the totem pole. Once you walked in that door, you shed all that you once were. You’re just another grunt that wants to make a name for himself, but I’m not going to make that easy. I don’t know what kind of competition you had in the military, but now you have _me_.”

Jack pressed his lips together and bit his tongue to keep from saying something he’d regret. His Ma raised him better than that. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Glad to see I have some worthy competition,” he said, “but I won’t make it easy for you, either, Reyes.”

The other man stood back and crossed his arms. He glowered at Jack for a moment before breaking out into a smile. He clapped Jack over the shoulder. “You can call me Gabriel,” he said. “I can’t wait to kick your ass, roomie.” 

—

The following weeks were nonstop competition. At every turn Gabriel challenged him. Who could run laps the fastest? Who could do the most push-ups before puking? Who could take the injections and get back to work the fastest? No matter what it was, Jack always found himself coming in second. Gabriel did everything with ease. He would pass Jack on the track running backwards, sticking out his tongue and giving him the middle finger on the way. Jack was out of breath doing push-ups before Gabriel even broke a sweat. The injections were taking a toll on Jack, too. His joints ached, his emotions raged in a never ending tempest. He found it harder to control his anger. It was a task to keep the bad thoughts at bay. 

Jack curled up in bed. Sweat drenched his clothes and dripped into his eyes. He scrubbed a hand over his face. His thoughts were racing again. They had target practice that morning. Gabriel had doubled Jack’s score. Afterwards, they had another round of injections. Gabriel was already in the mess hall shoveling down food while Jack felt near the brink of death. He pulled his knees up to his chest and let out a shaky breath. 

When had things changed? Had he gotten worse? Had he really been an average joe among a bunch of mediocre idiots? Now that he had _actual_ competition…

The tears started before he could bite them back. His body wracked with sobs. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to cry. It hurt just to exist. What was he without his skills? Without his ability to succeed?

He didn’t want to admit it, but Gabriel was right. 

He was just another grunt looking to make a name for himself. 

The sound of footsteps outside the door made Jack bite his lip in an effort to stifle his crying. He turned so his back was to the door and pulled the blanket over him. His. breath came in ragged wheezes. He hoped it just sounded like he was having trouble with the injections. Jack heard Gabriel open the door. He flicked on the light, making Jack squint his eyes at the sudden fluorescent glow. Jack heard Gabriel pause beside the bed.

“Jack…?” he asked.

Jack didn’t flip over. He kept his gaze glued bitterly to the wall. 

“Are you okay, dude? It sounded like you were crying,” Gabriel said. 

“I’m not,” Jack said, his voice hoarse.

Gabriel grunted. “You’re not a good liar, Jack,” he said and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m not good at anything apparently,” Jack said as he shoved his face into his pillow. His voice was muffled against the fabric. 

“Is that what this is about?” Gabriel asked. “Because I’m kickin’ your ass?”

Jack stayed silent. His shoulders stiffened. His sorrow swirled and seeped into rage. It felt like acid in his stomach and at the back of his throat. He balled his fists in the sheets. “Yes, Gabriel. It is.”

“Hey, I’m sorry...I mean, I don’t know what else to say. You haven’t made it easy for me, you know. You’ve lived up to your word,” Gabriel said. 

Jack sat up to face Gabriel. His tear-streaked face caught the other man off guard. Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “I try my hardest and I still can’t beat you. Sometimes I don’t even make the scoreboard. I feel like...like an imposter. I feel like I’m failing everyone that’s expecting the most of me,” Jack said. 

“Jack…” Gabriel said. He hesitated for a moment. “Wait here a second.”

Gabriel went over to his desk and grabbed a sticky note pad and a pen. He came back over to the bed, balanced the sticky notes on his knee, and scrawled something down. He tore off the note  
and pressed it to Jack’s chest. Jack scrunched up his nose and looked down. “Jack Morrison, #1 Roommate,” stared back at him in Gabriel’s looping font.

“You haven’t let me down, Jack. You’ve helped me push myself to be the best I can be. I’ve watched you improve in almost every field. The only difference now is that you’re surrounded by people who want to push you to your greatest potential, and not watch you stagnate because you think you’re the best,” Gabriel said.

“Gabriel…” Jack said. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“You can call me Gabe.”

\--

Soldier 76 sat atop a building that overlooked the bay in Dorado, Mexico. He took a long sip from his beer and removed his visor. The sun was setting over the water. He sighed, rolled his shoulders, and leaned back. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a faded yellow sticky note. He unfolded it and pressed it to his chest. The adhesive had long since worn off, but the note caught on his jacket and stayed. The writing was faded, but legible.

“Jack Morrison, #1 Roommate.”

**Author's Note:**

> Can I go a single fic without making Jack Morrison cry?
> 
> No.


End file.
